


And The Galaxy Held Its Breath

by xDomino009x



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brainwashing, Canon Gay Relationship, Drinking, End of the World, Ensemble Cast, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Feels, First Time, Fluff, Genocide, Hate Sex, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Murder-Suicide, One Night Stands, One Shot Collection, Original Character Death(s), Resolved Sexual Tension, Revenge, Smut, Theft, Then not so hate sex, drinking buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2021670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDomino009x/pseuds/xDomino009x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Shepard is dead, KIA in the initial Reaper attack on Earth. While her friends made it out alive they were unable to make the Council cooperate. Now, with a set deadline for their extinction in a final insult from the Reapers, the people who once swore to follow her to the ends of the Earth can no longer do that. in their final weeks, days, hours, they try to forget, deny, fulfil their dreams...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I wanted a story where Shepard was dead, hence why this Shep has a lack of personality - if I gave her one I'd end up wanting her alive again! There's also no time scale for this, it jumps around a lot. Mainly because my brain is lazy and I couldn't be bothered figuring where everything went!!! :)  
> Anyway, hopefully none of this is too farfetched. The pairings are hopefully believable (I support Jack/Miranda regardless) and hopefully there are no imploding minds reading this!!!
> 
> Obviously there is no way I could create this stuff, BioWare are the evil masterminds behind Mass Effect!

Ashley Williams sat with her back to the memorial. It was a small thing really, not like the one that should have been built to honour the whole crew of the Normandy after their first victory, the one against Sovereign and Saren. But the hero this stone tablet was dedicated to had always been humble. He wouldn’t have wanted more. And there was the charity set up in his name as well. She sighed and took another swig of her drink. “You couldn’t have asked for more Kaidan. I almost wish I was there with you already.” We came so far, but in the end…”

In the end it hadn’t mattered how far they’d come. They hadn’t been able to stop the Reapers, Shepard had died back on Earth. She thought about that too. She was the only one of the three alliance marines who wasn’t going to die a hero’s death. She would wait for her death to find her like a child awaiting the bell to end a playtime. Because that was all she’d been doing for years – playing with time and letting it pass her by as though it was nothing. The Reapers had proven her wrong, and she groaned as she shifted on the stone base of the monument.

“At least you don’t have to see the mess, not really. Down here, it’s like hell came to Earth… or Virmire as the case may be.” She chuckled despite herself. Of all the places she found herself she was sitting in the crater where her friend had gave his life so she and the others could escape. But mainly her. A few times, after Shepard had dies in the Collector attack, she’d come here to yell at Kaidan, to curse everyone who’d left her over the years – her father, her friends…

But it had never done any good. She’d shouted herself hoarse and then stormed off as though she could leave the memories behind with the grave of her friend. They always followed her, always haunted her. Wherever they went they followed, whenever she closed her eyes the faces of the people she’d loved hovered in the darkness, just out of reach, taunting her. Mocking her. She’d been weak. She’d failed them, all of them, and now they were never going to leave her alone. She wondered if she could face them… up in heaven would they be waiting for her? Would they even want to see her in the afterlife?

She laughed again and grabbed her assault rifle, discharging it into the trees where she knew the Reaper forces were waiting. They wouldn’t make a move though, not until that set time. The Reapers had everything planned, right down to the second that they would sweep across the galaxy. They knew they had taken care of the real threat, taken care of Shepard. Ashley spat bitterly on the ground, away from the shrine to her fallen comrade. “I don’t know, Kaidan. Maybe if I’d been better at this I could have taken the reigns. If you were here you would’ve known what to do. She should have chosen you, it’s her damned fault…” she trailed off into a deep sigh. And checked her watch. She felt like there must be millions doing the exact same thing, waiting for the end. There was nothing anyone could do anymore. Not one damn thing.

“God, please don’t make it hurt,” she begged, dropping to her knees in front of the gravestone with her hands clasped in front of her in prayer, “Please make it quick. And let me see them again. All of them.” Even Garrus, she thought with a slight hint of irony. Of all the people she could have thought of now she was having a hard time taking her mind off the turian. She didn’t love him, hell she’d hardly even liked him when they were together. But absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they said, and she’d been away from the rest of civilisation for a few weeks now. She would miss him, and his brutal honesty and that annoying cocky swagger. If he’d been human… things would have been different. But he hadn’t been, he’d been a turian so she’d done little but treat him with suspicion for half a year, then ignore him for months after that.

With a sigh Ashley looked back at the grave, wishing her father’s and Shepard’s could be beside it. She curled up into a ball at the base of the small stone tablet and lay with her back facing the trees, her head tucked against the cold stone. Her tears were not for her, but the people she knew would be fighting their inevitable deaths out in other places in the galaxy, for those who never had a chance to live – the children, both unborn and running and playing, and the lovers who never knew what a life together could bring. And those who had found their love now, because the galaxy forced them to. With a sad smile she prayed for them all silently but the words from her mouth came on their own, freely, and showed what was in her heart: acceptance.

“Because I could not stop for death,

He kindly stopped for me,

The carriage held but just ourselves,

And immortality.”

Ashley Williams closed her eyes. And she slept.


	2. The Queen's Archangel

The turian had gone back to Omega. Cerberus had, by now, given up the station as a lost cause and Aria had moved back in. Her voice came across the headset that he’d stolen from the corpse of one of her mercs, after leaving a considerable bullet hole in his chest. “Someone get Archangel, but don’t kill him. There’s no point now.” A batarian’s voice replied with a little more surprise than Garrus had actually expected, “Aria, you sure. He killed half our men last time he was here…”

“Just do it, Bray. I’m prepared to die, but it doesn’t mean I won’t kill anyone who disobeys me until then.” The comm. system clicked off and Garrus groaned. Looked like there would be more people here for him to remove. He laughed a little as he remembered the time Shepard had found him taking down mercs on his own. ‘Just keeping my skills sharp’ he’d told her, but he was back at it again now. He might be a turian, he might have believed they could take the Reapers down if they all worked together, but he also believed very strongly that the only one who could lead them to do it was Shepard. As soon as he’d heard the news of her death he’d returned here. If these people were going to die they deserved to have their remaining time without the threat of mercenaries hanging over their heads.

And now Aria wanted him, probably as a last minute hood ornament for the private shuttle she’d try to use to get out of here. But he could maybe entertain a little risk. He was, after all, Archangel. And Archangel was the best in the business. And on Omega he was the only one in the business. With a quick change in direction he headed towards afterlife. He took the back alleys, only running through the better lit areas when he had to, and when there didn’t seem to be anyone around to become collateral damage. Whatever Aria wanted him for he may as well find out, and if he couldn’t eavesdrop via the headset he’d listen in on their conversations in person. If she was plotting something she wouldn’t see him coming until she had a hole between her eyes.

He arrived in the club, taking the lower entrance and walking through with his head bowed and a slight stagger that worked in making most people think he was a little drunk, and then blended into the shadows while Aria sat on her couch. She had a glass in her hand, a second on the floor by her feet and a few bottles strewn around her. Some were empty, others were full. Her body guards were nowhere to be found, the clubs music was playing for only her entertainment, and even the pole dancers were absent. Garrus watched her for a few more moments and then watched as she spoke slowly to the batarian again over the headset. “Damn it, Bray, where is he? Just tell him I want to talk, maybe he’ll come. If he doesn’t… saves me washing your blood off my clothes.”

“He came, T’loak. Speak quick or not at all.” Garrus let his mandibles flicker as surprise registered on Aria’s face then disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared. She smiled at the shadows, still unable to see him, but not willing to make it look like she was unaware of his exact location. “Why don’t you join me for a drink? We don’t have long left, as I’m sure you know.” Garrus did know, and he stepped out of the shadows silently. If she’d wanted him dead she’d have tried something already, and she probably wouldn’t have left the club empty.

“Where is everyone? Your throne room seems rather empty today? No jesters?” Aria laughed at his mocking tone and fell almost gracefully backwards into the couch, knocking an empty bottle over as she went. Garrus cocked his head to the side. She was drunk. Not a lot, but more than he’d thought the queen of Omega would allow herself to be. But then again, he supposed no one would be looking to kill her now. There was no point anymore. “Don’t get it do you, Vakarian?” she muttered bitterly, glaring into the contents of her glass, “I am the jester.”

Garrus took the glass offered to him, inspecting it carefully as the dark drink, probably Noverian rum, was poured into it and Aria refilled her own glass. “Don’t worry, there’s no point in poisoning you. Not now anyway. Reapers are gonna come blow us all to fucking hell anyway.” She looked pitiful, sitting slouched with her eyes half lidded in the dim lighting of the club. And Garrus couldn’t help turning to her, talking finally, “Something bothering you? I hear the end of the world is the best time to confide in people.” Aria muttered a few curses, her words still clear as a bell even after the excessive amount of alcohol she’d apparently consumed.

“Everything’s wrong, Vakarian. I was meant to take my station back, fight to the death for it if I had to, not wait for Cerberus to give up and go home. I was meant to get revenge for… _her_! Fuck, I had another three centuries on this rock, and now… nothing. It’s over, Vakarian, and you can’t be a hero this time. There’s no guardian angel for me, not after everything I’ve done.” Her short rant left Garrus speechless for a while. He didn’t know what to say so instead he raised his glass and offered it to Aria in a toast. “Then, to the end and whatever comes after it; Spirits, we’ve all earned a break. I hear there’s a bar up there. Maybe strippers to. You could get comfy again.” Aria nodded and brought her own glass against Garrus’.

“I’ll drink to that. And to seeing her again. To making things right with my girl in the afterlife. I did a fucked up job in this one.” She looked around the bar with a wry smile and downed her drink. But Garrus didn’t. “Girl? You had a…”

“A daughter, yeah. Liselle.” Aria shrugged mentally at her sudden spilling of that very personal information. What did it matter if one turian knew? They were all going to die soon anyway, and Liselle… now she was gone she was the most important thing to her. Omega could burn if it would get her back, give her another chance. She’d even prayed to the Goddess for another chance to make things right, but nothing came. She was gone, but there may be hope yet. “Cerberus killed her.” The name was bitter in her throat and then suddenly, it didn’t burn anymore. Not in her heart anyway. In her eyes.

She blinked a few times, trying to dislodge the unpleasant warmth, and then turned away from the turian in horror. Garrus couldn’t help the twitch of his mandibles as he shifted forwards to watch the tear fall down Aria’s cheek. So, she did cry like mere mortals. Maybe she even bled. But he wasn’t going to find out. As she brushed the tears away and regained her composure Garrus edged back in his seat. He wasn’t sure what he should say, if there even was anything to say in these situations. Shepard would have known what to do. She probably would have bundled the Pirate Queen into a hug and hoped for the best, holding her until the tears stopped and then a little longer despite the gun pressed in the small of her back. Shepard was like that she hugged people… she… she…

Aria looked around at the low growl that escaped her drinking buddy, looking for the anger or the talons raised and prepared to strike her down. If that was the case she’d meet her death gladly. It would only be a few hours earlier than when the Reapers came knocking anyway. But there was no sign of imminent attack and she found herself relaxing, even with Archangel at her side. She swallowed some more drink, this time taking it from the bottle instead of bothering with a glass. What did it matter now? The bottle fell over as she dropped it to the floor and let her head fall sideways onto Garrus’ shoulder. If he didn’t like it, tough luck, she wasn’t moving. She didn’t care anymore. The turian laughed and looked down at her. “Comfy?”

“Don’t fuck with Aria,” she replied, her voice clear and strong as it always was. Then she realised… she didn’t need this bravado, not here, not now, not with Garrus. She didn’t have to be Aria T’loak, she could be her now. No more running and hiding behind long titles that were barriers from the world, no more Pirate Queen. “I’m so tired of fighting, of pretending…”

“Then don’t fight. And don’t pretend. Just pray to your guardian angel, and wait to see your daughter again. It’s all we can do now Aria.” Aria took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Aleena.” Garrus looked at her confused at the sudden name she’d mumbled against his shoulder. “Aleena. It’s… my name. Before Aria, I was Aleena. And I told you before, I don’t have an angel.” With a shrug that rocked the asari’s head slightly Garrus laughed, tilting his head so his mandible rested on her crest as she shifted her hand to hold his cowl gently. “Then I’ll be your angel.” Garrus felt her stir slightly and shifted in his place as she moved.

“I thought you only protected the innocent?”

“I do. But I can make an exception for you, just this once, Aleena.” The asari smiled softly, closing her eyes and flipping her feet up onto the couch. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and she felt… safe. Aria – no Aleena – was ready. She was prepared to die, to leave this life. She was prepared to meet her daughter. With Garrus as her angel, and maybe even her friend, she would be alright until the Reapers came for her. She would be with Liselle again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't meant romantically. If you read any romance into it, fair enough, I wont judge. Aria and Garrus to me aren't an item... Aria and Liara, maybe, but that's a whole different story. ;)  
> I also thought it would be nice to get a softer side to Aria... tell me what you think if you want!!


	3. The Final Rebellion

The old krogan grunted as a shot ripped through hit armour. Damned marauders were getting annoying now, but if they could take out the Reaper forces one by one they might pull through. He wasn’t like the rest of the galaxy, he and his clan, and he would not settle back and get comfy while he waited for the end. His troops had been rallied by his stern words, his promise that if anyone didn’t fight he would tear off their crest plate. They had all fought after that, just his clan and the ones who had joined him over the last three years. The other clans were still too busy trying to fight the turians and each other, they were consumed by their primal need to prove their honour. He laughed bitterly – what did they have honour for anyway?

A shot past by him and hit the krogan standing just a few paces back from his position. With a sigh he muttered a quick farewell to his chief scout, who Shepard had spoken to a year ago about the damned salarian who’d been trying to cure the Genophage for Clan Weryloc. He’d been an idiot, but he had his head in the right place. It had all been for nothing now though, while the rest of Tuchanka, the galaxy, stood by and watched the Reapers advancing on them a little more each second. All their efforts had been In vain, Shepard had died in vain. She was a hero, and a dead one, but people hadn’t rallied under her name when Ashley went to the Council, Liara hadn’t been able to force alliances with all her Intel and secrets.

“Grunt, get back here! Keep these idiots in line!” The young krogan, only a year old really, was covered in his fair share of scars. Some were from proving to others that he belonged in Clan Urdnot as well as anyone else, others were from fighting through thickets of Reaper forces when Arlack Company grew restless and tired of waiting for the Reapers to take them out. He was grinning like a child even now and he pounded his fist together as he yelled back, “Right. Sure thing battle master.” Wrex sighed. Before she’d died Shepard had been the whelp’s battle master. Now it was him, and he sorely wished that he wasn’t. If he wasn’t, that meant Shepard was alive, and if Shepard was alive that meant they would be winning this war. Three months after her death and the other races hadn’t lifted a finger to prevent the Reapers sweep of death across the galaxy.

Lifting his shotgun Wrex roared and charged forwards, a line of other krogan following him into the fight. They had come to the clearing the Reaper had made when it had landed, all scorched earth and the sputtering embers of fires that had leapt up uncontrollably. Glowing blue eyes loomed out of the shadows, hulking figures obscured by the smoke that still plumed from the very ground the krogan forces stood on. Husks, brutes, marauders… all Wrex really wanted to see was a Reaper, an actual Reaper coming to finish them off, because that was what it would take to stop the krogan.

“Charge!” Following their leader’s order the line of krogan rushed into the clearing, the old battle master ahead of the rest. Shots fired around him, towards him, a few struck him. But he didn’t feel it other than the jerk that ran through his body at the sharp impact. He knew his armour was probably splintering into his skin, puncturing various areas on his body that were now bleeding profusely. But he didn’t feel it, not really. He was in a blood-rage, every shot he sent the enemies way taking something down, every time he came close to anything his skill connected with theirs with a sickening crunch from their breaking neck.

This was good, if running into your certain death could ever really be that good, and he was content fighting the good fight with fifty other krogan at his heels. And then there was his real target, the Reaper that had destroyed this part of his home. He remembered this place, it was the place where he’d brought a few of the whelps out to train against him, and none of them even came close to hurting him. A few of them had ended up in the infirmary and he smiled at the thought of doing the same thing to the Reaper, of that great metal ‘god’ slinking back out into dark space to be fixed by his minions.

With a nod to his people Wrex led the charge yet again, pushing through enemy lines, ignoring the brutes that made wild swipes at him and the husks that tailed him with their arms flailing… he had eyes only for the Reaper. The real fight here was that monster, and he was going to bring it down. He’d brought down the thresher when he was younger, and now he would bring down his own Reaper, and let the other species know of his victory when it was over.

But his moment of celebration never came. Instead all that greeted him was the red light, reaching down towards his troops. He fell to the side, in an attempt to avoid it, crying out in rage as three of his men were destroyed by the laser that the Reaper had sent their way. He rose to his feet again, only to be pulled to the floor again, the hands on his arms and legs too many to fight off at once.

Grunt watched from a higher viewpoint as his new battle master was swallowed up in a sea of husks, as the red finger of the Reaper moved to acquire more targets and decimate them as it had the first. He nodded to himself, the only one left standing up here, and gripped his shot gun – the claymore Shepard had given him. With a cry he jumped down the side of the vantage point and into the thickest parts of the fight. “For the krogan! And for Shepard!” his shotgun rang out three times, and then was silenced.

The fight was over. It was lost. But Grunt couldn’t be happier. He would be with his battle master again, if she was right about that human place called heaven. Maybe it was really the void. But regardless, she’d assured him they’d all meet after this. So they would. He and Shepard and the crew from the Normandy would sit somewhere with lots of enemies to kill and lots of drinks to be had and talk and fight and butt heads with each other and he would be happy. He would have found what he… wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to any fans of Wrex and Grunt, I love them both too, but I honestly thought neither of them would want to go down without a fight. This seemed like the best possible outcome for them in my head.


	4. A Single White Rose

“You want to know about Shepard? What for, it won’t bring her back.” The quarian looked at the woman in front of her with a sad smile hidden under her helmet, “And Liara? Why do they matter anymore? We lost.”

“They matter a hell of a lot more than you give them credit for, vas Normandy.” The asari looked at her over the rim of a glass. Tali wasn’t even sure how she’d ended up here with the barkeeper in eternity, or why she’d chosen to spend the remainder of her days here on Illium. It was a nice enough place and after her exile from the Fleet… She didn’t really have anywhere to go, or anywhere to be. Shepard had been her home, the Normandy had been her fleet. She’d forgotten the pain of losing everything instantly, as soon as the commander had smiled at her and told her it would be alright. They’d be together forever, and she’d been naïve enough to believe her. But Shepard didn’t lie, the Reapers were just determined to make a liar out of her.

With a resigned sigh Tali starter to speak, only a few words at first but them much more confidently, until she was spilling her deepest secrets to the asari she’d spoken to once before with Shepard. “She was amazing. I guess you already knew that. She had a thing for Liara as well, but nothing ever came of it. She turned her down when she asked – her mission was too important. Liara cried for a week afterwards, but she hid her upset from everyone but me. I don’t know what I did to get her to like me. I guess maybe it was Garrus. She knew I had feelings for him but I was always rebuffed in every attempt. He had eyes for Shepard. We were the same in that way, me and Liara, we loved people we couldn’t have. People we never got to say ‘I love you’ to.”

“Looks like we both have secrets we kept, maybe for our own good and maybe for others.” Tali looked at the matriarch confused and the asari flashed her a sad smile, reaching under the counter for something. Tali stiffened, thinking it might be a weapon of some sort, but instead the asari pulled out a picture and set on on the counter, stroking the frame fondly. “I never got to say I loved her, and she was right in front of me for two years. I never had the guts.”

Tali looked at the picture and even her mask couldn’t hide her shock as she recognised the face of the asari it showed. Liara, although younger and her face was slightly rounder in the picture, was still the same really. The same big blue eyes, the same naïveté written all over her face. Even though she was she shadow broker now she was still gullible. She’d thought the galaxy was filled with good people and that they would band together when they saw the Reapers coming. But she’d been proven wrong so many times since Shepard’s death.

“She’s my daughter,” Aethyta explained as she saw Tali cock her head slightly in confusion. That made sense, and it explained that video back on the Shadow Broker’s ship. Tali took the matriarch’s hand and muttered, “I’m pretty sure she knew who you were. And she probably knew you loved her, even from afar.”

“I don’t need you to make me feel better, kid. I just wish this damned galaxy wasn’t coming to an end. I should’ve gone to find her, but she’s long gone. And being the Shadow Broker and all…”

“You know about that?” Tali asked, rather surprised that Aethyta, who claimed to not know her daughter really, knew that she was the Broker. Aethyta just smiled, more to herself than anyone. She had her sources, she had that bug she’d set up in Liara’s office that one time when she went out. She’d heard the whole ordeal with Tela Vasir, and the small scuffle that went on between her daughter and some other asari who was supposed to be her assistant. Turned out she had ears even where the Shadow Broker didn’t know about them. And asari don’t even have ‘ears’, not like the humans do, she thought with a small chuckle to herself.

Tali watched the change in the matriarch as she went through the motions of depression and then through to a little bit of cheer. With a grin Aethyta muttered something about getting a drink and walked away for a moment. Tali sighed, sat at the bar by herself. Her attention was caught by a couple sat at one of the tables.

“We could catch a vid if you wanted, one last play-through of ‘Fleet and Flotilla’?” the turian asked his friend, the little quarian sat opposite him hanging her head. She perked up a little at that but she still seemed sad to Tali. She shook her head, “No, I’m good. A little dry spell won’t hurt me.” With a sigh Tali stood up. She’d actually seen these ones before, the turian trying to hint to his friend that he liked her without saying it outright.

Tali came to their table and stopped. Both looked at her and she crossed her arms over her breasts. “You know he likes you, right? Don’t be a bosh’tet about it and actually listen to what he’s saying.” The quarian looked to her turian friend who had looked away in embarrassment instead of getting angry at the rude quarian who had just walked over to them like she owned the place. Tali wasn’t afraid of making any enemies, not now. They would shout and tell her to get lost and she would. But instead the quarian sitting at the table placed a hand on the turian’s and cocked her head.

“Really? You like me, as more than a friend?” The turian nodded slowly, meeting the glow of her eyes through her mask as best he could. His mandibles flickered outwards as her fingers wrapped around his and she stood up. “Where are we going, Teir‘Laina?” The quarian quietened him with a finger and he followed her as she muttered, “I don’t mind being sick for the last hours of my life. I’m just glad you finally admitted you liked me.” Tali shook her head and smiled after the pair as they walked away. That was quicker than she’d expected but still…

“Quite the little matchmaker, aren’t you?” Aethyta asked as she returned to the bar. Tali shrugged and looked at the picture of Liara on the bar. “People should take what they can get while they still can. We didn’t, and we regret it. For what it’s worth though, Liara always knew you didn’t abandon her properly.”

“She did?” the old asari asked hopefully. Then she shrugged. “Either way I guess it doesn’t matter now. That human had a quad, thought she’d look after her for me. Apparently not.” She downed the drink she’d been nursing and then wiped down the bar even though it was spotlessly clean already. Tali decided it was nerves and she sat back down on the stool she’d been occupying for about two hours previously. The matriarch was actually fun to talk to once you got past her initial bluntness, and the rough edges.

“She knew. She told me once she used to imagine what you were like when she was a child. She thought you’d be the dashing rogue like in the stories.” Aethyta laughed and leant against the bar. “I guess I was the roguish type, but never really dashing. Nezzy had the rack and all…” Tali grimaced. She really didn’t need to know the details of Benezia’s ‘rack’, not after watching her die and knowing her daughter.

With a sigh she settled comfortably into the chair. Maybe just staying here and drinking for the last few hours wouldn’t be too bad after all. She had wanted to get a few things straight, but she didn’t have a care anymore. Her father was gone, her mother a long time ago, her friends from the flotilla hated her and her friends from the Normandy were seeking their own closures. It was as it should be. She’d started off her greatest adventure surrounded by strangers on a human ship. Maybe she should end this way too, surrounded by strangers who could have become friends.

With a sigh she reached up behind her and tugged down her hood and let her fingers, trembling a little, undo the seals on the back of her mask. “Sure that’s a good idea, kid?” Tali ignored the matriarch’s words of warning and pulled the front part of her mask away, leaving the breathing frame and back section intact. It was enough just to be able to see the world without it tainted by the purple mask. Aethyta looked at her approvingly. “You got a quad there, kiddo, here,” she leant forwards and kissed her on the cheek. Tali shuddered and raised her hand to the sensation that was all so new and alien to her. “I figured you never really felt one of those before.”

Tali laughed. She hadn’t, and she thanked Aethyta for thinking about her. So far she didn’t feel sick at all, although it had only been about ten seconds. If she was going to die in a few hours anyway, what did she care if she died through illness or the Reapers? It was all the same ending. She looked around her happily, shifted a vase from the corner of the bar and held the flower under her nose. It smelled beautiful, just a single white rose, and she grinned broadly at the matriarch.

_See Shepard. I told you I could do it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be Tali and Dianna Allers in a strange kinda interview, but it turned into this after about three lines. Hopefully Tali and Aethyta seem to work well, and the little part with the Quarian and Turian just had to be in it really, didn't it? :)


	5. Wine and Women

She had left Mars with Ashley when she’d brought the Normandy over to find her at the command of Admiral Hackett. She’d already known a few people on board from her visits to Earth to help with the retrofit of what was supposed to be her office. Steve Cortez, James Vega – who had been guarding the commander – and Samantha Traynor were among the people she’d met during the retrofits and she imagined they would have each become fast friends with the human she’d fallen for in a matter of weeks. Now she was sitting in a sitting in a small apartment room with Samantha Traynor, who had asked to just be called Sam, and sipping wine. It had no flavour though, not to her, while her heart was racing and she was waiting for her death and… something else.

“How do you want to do this then?” Sam asked, looking at Liara as she finished the glass of wine the human woman had filled to the brim. It was apparently good for courage to have something to drink, but all her mother had ever said it was good for was to make you stupid. And maybe that was what she needed, with her end only hours away, to be stupid just once. “I don’t know. Maybe we should just… get this over with?” Sam blinked at her once, then twice, her smile fading into a pursed frown. She rose rigidly and walked over to the counter with the bottle of wine in her hand. “Fine, just give me a minute.”

Liara jumped to her feet and followed Sam after she showed no sign of stopping to wait for her. Had she said something wrong? Had she just made some unforgivable mistake that Sam was going to hate her for? She’d thought that was how this worked, a pitiful one night stand before the world ended. She’d wanted love, and soft candle light, and a romantic meal before-hand. But she didn’t want to die without feeling the feel of another’s mind and body tangled with her own, and Sam was… she was someone she trusted, and someone who had stood by her side when they realised the war was lost before it had begun. She called after her, “I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“It’s alright,” Sam assured her, although she sounded somewhat bitter as she spoke, like the words were hurting her a little, “I just didn’t think you’d want straightforward, emotionless…”

“I don’t!” Liara exclaimed, a little faster than she needed to, and Sam raised an eyebrow at her. She found her cheeks burning and turned away as she reiterated, “I don’t. I always thought it would be romantic and special, but I didn’t think you’d…” Liara trailed off and Sam chuckled to herself, in that sweet voice Liara had honestly found attractive even on Earth. With a smile the human turned to her, “Why don’t you tell me how this is meant to go?” Liara’s blush deepened and Sam laughed again.

“You mean,” Liara stammered slowly, “like in my fantasies?” Sam nodded. Liara groaned slightly and looked away from the human’s deep brown eyes. “You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t. I promise. Just tell me what we’re supposed to do. Anything you want, name it and I’ll do it.”

Sam actually meant it too. Whatever Liara wanted she was sure she could stand doing for her in the last hours of her life. Liara had never been with anyone before, and Sam could understand her wanting to feel something like this before the end of the galaxy. It had been sudden when she shy young asari had come to her with the request, but now that she was here… it was looking more and more like Sam would enjoy this as much as she would.

Liara however was wringing her hands and looking a little nervous once more. The drink had helped but not as much as Sam had promised it would. With a deep breath she muttered, “There’s… I mean we… kiss?” the end was like a question and Sam nodded, taking a step forwards and pressing her lips against Liara’s gently.

It was chaste, like that kiss Liara had stolen when she was living with her mother from one of the younger acolytes when everyone else had left the room. It reminded her of happier days, when the galaxy seemed so full of wonder and devoid of the death and chaos she’d been seeing all throughout the last few months. Sam pulled away after only a few seconds and for a moment Liara stood there with her eyes closed, her fingers flexing at her side. “Deeper…” she whispered, “Slower.”

Sam smiled and brought one hand to her cheek, caressing the blue skin tenderly as though they were really lovers. And for tonight Sam supposed she was Liara’s lover. Her… only lover. Ever. It meant something that Liara felt she could ask her for this very intimate thing at the end of the world, that out of all the people who would do what this beautiful young woman asked she had been the one chosen. As their lips touched once more she felt Liara stiffen and then relax into the kiss.

Liara didn’t breath. She knew she should but she didn’t. She couldn’t. This was… beyond anything she’d thought it would be like. She’d read books, sappy romance novels of her mother’s, that told of duelling tongues and ragged breath. But this was nothing like that. As she felt Sam’s tongue slide slowly past her lips, caress the tip of her own and slide deeper into her mouth… this was a dance, not a fight. She’d been fighting for years, she could tell the difference. A moan escaped her as Sam’s teeth grazed her lower lip, the slight press sharp but not at all painful. She felt the chuckle reverberate through her, felt the hand on the small of her back pull her flush against the human.

With trembling hands she reached up to brush Sam’s cheek, her hair tickling her face where it touched, and moved one into her hair. It was smooth, unlike anything she’d felt before, and ran through her fingers almost like water. It was a surprise when she felt herself being walked against the bed; she hadn’t even realised she was being walked backwards as she followed Sam’s lead. Their lips slid together, tongues danced between their mouths and then Liara broke away, her breath faster but now ragged.

“What next, Doctor T’soni?” Sam asked, trailing a hand up and down Liara’s side while her other hand remained on her cheek, brushing across her cheekbone with her thumb. Liara looked Sam up and down and then thought back to her fantasies she’d had about Shepard when she was on the SR-1. After this… she was normally wearing less. “Would you… let me undress you?” Sam nodded, her hands falling to her sides slowly as Liara reached to undo the jacket, peel off the tight vest top. Soon Samantha Traynor was wearing nothing but her underwear and Liara looked her up and down again. “May I?” she whispered, fingers trailing along the straps of Sam’s bra. The human nodded and Liara reached behind her, holding her in a somewhat awkward hug while she released the clasp. The bra fell away and Liara felt her lips twitch up in a smile. Sam was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, and she was hers. For whatever time they had left Sam was hers. And she was Sam’s.

Without even realising it Liara had reached out and placed a hand over Sam’s heart, her other hand resting on her hip. Sam laughed and looked at Liara’s still covered body. “Not that I’m one to complain, but do you plan on staying fully clothed?” Liara blushed and looked between her own body and Sam’s. She was still clothed, and she had to get undressed while not making a fool of herself…

“Let me,” Sam offered and Liara nodded, stunned. She turned slowly for Sam to pull down the zipper on the back of her dress, shivering as it fell to the floor leaving her equally exposed as the human. She felt cold, but warm hands massaged her back and she couldn’t prevent the groan that left her lips as skilled hands worked up the back of her ribs and around her shoulders. “In these fantasies of yours,” Sam asked, mumbling slightly as she kissed Liara’s shoulders gently and pulled the almost naked asari against her body, “Does the other person tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Sometimes,” Liara muttered in return, embarrassed to be sharing her secret longings with anyone. Maybe Shepard, but she wasn’t here anymore. Sam laughed against her shoulder and kissed her neck gently, “Well, they should. Because you are. And maybe you’d like me to tell you everything I think I could do to help you… feel. Like laying you down on the bed,” she kissed her jaw, “and crawling over you,” she kissed her cheek, “pressing you back into the sheets and,” Liara cut her off with a sigh as her lips brushed her crest. Sam smiled to herself. She hadn’t known asari’s crests were particularly sensitive, either that or Liara was having a good time listening to her talking – that would be the damned accent again…

“You can close your eyes. I won’t go anywhere,” Sam persuaded her, hands running over her hips as she turned her around. Liara obeyed and let her eyes flicker closed as fingers played across her skin. Lips brushed against hers and she was captured in another kiss, her heart hammering in her chest as a soft hand pressed against her breast. Sam flinched a little when Liara’s mind touched hers, but then relaxed. Liara needed this, needed the meld. After all, that was why they were both here wasn’t it? “Go on, I’d like to find out what that’s like.”

Hesitantly Liara pressed their minds together, twining her consciousness with Sam’s and wrapping her arms around the human’s body. Sam’s mind was… beautiful, bright, but troubled. Liara, not really knowing how a mating meld should work, sought out the cause of the darkness she could feel in herself. The Reapers, their attack on Earth, watching it out of a small window while she made her escape… while she left the great Commander Shepard behind. ‘There was nothing you could do Sam.’

Sam jumped as she heard Liara’s voice in her head and pulled away slightly. Telepathy was a new one – something she hadn’t ever read about in a those books she’d brought to find out a little more about what the asari did in these situations. So far she liked it, but hearing her companion’s voice in her head…

‘I’m sorry. I thought you might have known. I can stop if you-’

‘No, it was just a surprise.’ Sam wasn’t entirely sure if Liara could hear her through the meld as well but she was rewarded with a gentle tug behind her hips as Liara chuckled and pulled her closer. ‘I like this, Sam. Thank you.’

‘No problem. We both like this. I just…’

‘You what?’

‘I wish we could do this again. I wish Shepard hadn’t… And I wish the Reapers weren’t going to steal you away from me.’ Sam groaned as her knees hit the wooden frame of the bed and she fell forwards as Liara pulled her down over her. Liara felt exactly the same, she could tell that from the warm pulses in her mind, but she wished she had better control over her thoughts. The whole mind-mouth thing she’d worked on, but now… Liara could read her mind and she couldn’t stop it even if she wanted to. Not that she wanted to.

‘Sam… I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’ Liara didn’t answer right away, instead she bucked her hips gently against the thigh that had fallen between them and Sam grinned as she let her lips trail down the asari’s body, coming to a stop on her breasts. ‘I love you, Liara.’

‘I’ Liara began, but she stopped. Did she love Sam? Did Sam even love her or was she just saying it, was it just part of the mood she was trying to set? With a sigh she continued ‘I love you too.’ Even if they were both just saying it Liara took a little comfort that she’d managed to say it to someone, and Sam seemed to relax into her arms. They would caress and hold and kiss until the Reapers came. Then they would leave together, just as it should be. Just as Liara would have wished to leave with Shepard if she hadn’t… if she was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never written Sam/Liara before, so hopefully it went well.


	6. What Could Have Been

“Brynn?” Brynn Cole looked over at the dark skinned man lying next to him, her hand playing across his abs inattentively. She was waiting for him to continue but he didn’t. Instead he lowered his head and kissed her forehead. “Guess we won’t be helping with any special project then hey?” Brynn laughed and shook her head. “No, I don’t think we will. And we’ll probably freeze here before the Reapers come if Archer can’t fix the environmental control suites.”

Jacob frowned and held her closer as she shivered. She was right though. If the ECS wouldn’t come back online they were dead in less than an hour. Not that it really mattered anyway. But he would have liked to spend extra time with this lovely woman he’d met just over half a year ago. With a sigh he muttered, “You decided yet?”

“Decided?”

“On a name?” Jacob stroked a hand over Brynn’s stomach. She was just starting to show, just as the Reapers were closing in to take them all out. His little baby boy was never going to make it. He would never breathe, never laugh or smile. His father wouldn’t be able to teach him to ride a bike or hold a gun. Jacob had agreed the guns would be for hunting, and of course when he was older – they weren’t in an old western where boys over ten knew how to use a rifle.

“Do we still need to?” Brynn asked, her head falling back against a thick shoulder. Jacob nodded slowly in the darkness and Brynn sighed. “Well, I always thought of calling him Shepard. Even though it was bound to be a popular name after this war. If she’d pulled it off I mean.” Jacob laughed but shook his head. “Not Shepard. She wouldn’t have liked getting the attention she’s bound to get from the citizens. I always liked Zachary.”

“Zachary?” Brynn questioned and when Jacob nodded again she smiled and placed her hand over his. “Zachary it is then.” With a smile they turned the subject from their son and onto the life they’d hoped to have.

Jacob had wanted to be somewhere small, maybe a colony like Freedom’s Progress or Horizon, where he could help people as a security worker or something. He may as well put his Cerberus training to good use. With a smile he carried on. He wanted a small house, with enough room for the three of them and maybe another kid in time. He wanted to do better than his dad had, to look after his son like a real father and make sure he knew every day how loved he was. Brynn nodded, tearing up a little when Jacob talked about what he’d wanted to teach Zachary.

Then it was her turn. She’d wanted to settle down on Earth, let Zachary be around his own species and his own history in a place Cerberus hadn’t polluted. She’d wanted a big house in the country though, with room for animals maybe and a big family. She’d dreamed of big family get togethers – she had siblings back on Earth – and Christmas around a big table. Jacob smiled and closed his eyes. Brynn yawned as she finished.

“You should get some sleep.” Brynn shook her head. She didn’t need sleep, not now, she needed comfort and she needed Jacob’s arms around her. Other than that everything else was trivial. With a happy grin, she was surprised that she felt happy right now too, she huddled close to her loved and wrapped her arms around his waist while he held her close. This was right… rather perfect in fact. The three of them here together… Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter and I don't think it needed to be any longer. simply Jacob being Jacob I guess (Even though he annoys he half way to hell) :)


	7. She'll Do For Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the reason the rating is mature. If you don't like that sort of thing the note at the end will sum it all up.

“Ah, don’t… Jack please, I need… ah.” Miranda sighed as Jack stopped moving and lay on top of her instead. “Happy yet Cheerleader?” Miranda glared at the ex-convict above her, whose hand was still firmly between her legs, and decided not to say anything that could antagonise her. Rolling her eyes and grinning Jack thrust her fingers a few more times, the pad of her thumb rubbing harshly against her cheerleader’s clit. Miranda gasped again, then groaned, and then sat up, pushing Jack off her and onto the floor. Very glad she wasn’t naked but had instead had a hand shoved down the front of her slacks Miranda stood and walked towards the door.

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” Jack laughed bitterly and took a swig of drink from an almost empty bottle she’d found on the floor. With a cough she muttered, “Who’d I tell? Worlds about to end and you’re worried about people knowing I just fucked you?” Miranda stopped dead, about to close the door behind her but something in Jack’s mocking voice forced her to turn back. She wasn’t worried people would know, she just didn’t want the reminders. She knew they’d be someplace else soon, though she wasn’t sure she knew where. Jack didn’t believe in any form of afterlife other than the one on Omega though, so she was living life to the fullest. The last few hours of it anyway.

“Stop pretending the galaxy gives a fuck about you, Cheerleader, just be happy I gave a fuck. A damn good one too by the sounds you were making.” Jack looked down at her still damp fingers and brought one between her lips slowly, watching Miranda watch her every move. Her smirk was short lived, soon wiped from her face as a biotic blast hit her. She found herself sitting on the couch with Miranda straddling her and a hand pressed around her neck. “I didn’t kill you on the Normandy because Shepard asked me to. Don’t tempt me now, Jack, she’s not here to stop it.”

“No, because she’s fucking dead, you bitch!” The outrage in Jacks voice surprised Miranda and she removed her hand. Her biggest mistake of the day, since Jack used the opportunity to throw herself forwards and trap Miranda underneath her. Miranda didn’t even bother to fight it. If Jack wanted to kill her she could. But the ex-convict didn’t. She just smiled cruelly and works her hand back inside Miranda’s slacks. Miranda didn’t complain. Just lay there until she felt Jack’s fingers probing her sex once more and closes her eyes.

A sigh escaped her as Jacks finger brushed over her clit, the pressure light. Then lips pressed against hers and she reciprocated the kiss. Jack was gentle, tender even, as she worked her hand against Miranda and the operative groaned against her lips. Her tongue was playful still as it pressed into her mouth, and Miranda didn’t refuse. With an annoyed sigh she rolled the two of them over, sitting atop Jack as she let herself rock gently over her hand. Jack’s grin widened as she watched the lust building in Miranda’s eyes and she let herself be used.

“That time on the Normandy wasn’t enough for you then?” she taunted her, watching the annoyance creeping back into Miranda’s face. But the operative was distracted from answering by the second hand that slid under her shirt and gripped her breast. She rocked against Jack harder now, grinding against her hand while she leaned over her, hands either side of the younger woman’s head.

Jack’s hands found the buttons of her shirt but instead of taking the time to undo them she ripped downwards, tearing each button from its place and then took Miranda’s nipple in her mouth. The operative cried out now, an orgasm ripping through her as Jack bit down sharply. Then she pulled away, extracting herself from Jack’s grip on the carpeted floor. Jack removed her hand and grinned up at Miranda.

“So, I made you come three times now. Don’t you have to return the favour?” Miranda sighed and stood up, walking over to the bed and discarding her torn and ruined shirt, slipping her shoes and easing her slacks over her hips. Then she lay down, gesturing for Jack to join her, in nothing but a pale pink pair of briefs that Jack ran a finger over before settling with her legs either side of Miranda’s body, straddling her stomach. Miranda smiled almost threateningly up at her and then bit her bottom lip, planning what to do now. Jack grinned for a moment then groaned as fingers took up a nipple and the other hand pushed against her sex.

“This is what we do at the end of the world?” she hissed to herself, “Well, fuck me but I think we’re crazy.” Miranda laughed and Jack watched her carefully. “Don’t worry. I plan to ‘fuck you’.” Jack groaned and let herself forget she hated this woman. Just for now she’d do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favourite pairing after FemShep/Liara!! Very happy I could work this in here :)  
> I put mature cos I don't think it quite hit Explicit. Tell me if you think otherwise and I'll change it though.


	8. Seashells and Bombshells

Well, that had come quickly. The end he meant. Not the cure. The Genophage would never be cured now. He’d been working on it a little, looking over the notes from Maelon’s research with another STG salarian, Padok Wiks. And he’d been doing his usual soul searching that seemed to entertain the commander so much before she passed on. The Reapers were cruel, mocking them, giving them a set time for their destruction. With Shepard gone they had no obstacles in their way. They could just come in, take their time to prepare and then strike. All life would be gone soon. Just like toe Protheans. Maybe they’d all be the next collectors.

Mordin shivered. He hated to think what the races of this cycle would look like. He’d already seen the husks and marauders and even a few brutes testing the boundaries. But he hadn’t seen an asari or a quarian or a salarian – or at least he hadn’t seen their counterparts the Reapers turned them into. Humans seemed to have it worse so far – the minds they seemed to value in all aspects of their lives had been stolen from them the second they became husks. And soon maybe all humans would become husks. No more culture, no more music or art… no more life.

For the first time ever though he had nothing to do. He was sitting alone now, with the last female Krogan alive in the STG base. She’d been silent all throughout his rambling about the great commander Shepard. He’d told her that she would have seen the Genophage cured. After her moaning that he’d been a part of releasing the new version of the ‘sterilisation plague’ on Tuchanka there was no doubt she’d seize any chance to correct what she saw as his biggest mistake.

“She would have saved us?” these were the first words she’d spoken to Mordin almost since the news of the commander’s death had reached them. In fact Mordin himself had been unusually quiet since the news had arrived at the salarian home world. He’d been great friends with the human woman – after all, if he’d wished to try love he would have tried with her. She was that sort of woman, the sort who seemed to inspire love and respect from everyone she met. Even a salarian could tell that.

“Yes. Believe so. Good person, big heart. Metaphorically speaking of course. Big heart would lead to complications… maybe death. Not good.” The krogan laughed a little at his babble and nodded sagely. It would indeed have been complicated if a human had a heart too big. Maybe that was why Krogan had two hearts… they were a good people underneath the armour and behind the shotguns. Maybe if the commander had lived they would have been given a chance to prove that again, and to rise to be the great race they had once been before the rebellions and the Genophage had ravaged their home and decimated their numbers.

Mordin sighed: he would have loved to run tests on seashells. Eve listened as he hummed to himself, singing the words in his head. 'I am the very model of a scientist salarian...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Again I think this was all it needed.


	9. Freedom or Sacriice

She’d never once believed she would die in bed. And now she was going to make sure of it. The distress call had come too late from the Lessus Monastery and now a second of her daughters was dead. Morinth had been the first, killed by her own hand thanks to the commander’s help. Now that brave human was gone and Samara… she was lost. The code couldn’t guide her like Shepard had, her heart tried to conflict her rational mind at every turn. Maybe, a few years ago, this answer would have been simple. As it stood now, she saw another way out. A way in which her daughter didn’t have to die. Years ago she would have pulled the trigger on Falere without hesitation. Now she had the same pistol she would have used on her daughter raised to her own temple.

Falere didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. She would have stayed here for the duration of the time left instead of let her mother go through with this but instead she just stood, silently watching, dreading the small twitch of Samara’s finger that would end the old Justicar’s torment. Samara closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, preparing herself. Then she pulled the trigger.

Falere was surprised by how gracefully she fell to her knees and then stopped. And then looked up at her with a sad smile. “Go, Falere.” The young Ardat-Yakshi looked at her, confused. Samara groaned and rose to her feet, looking at the shot mark on the wall beside her. In the end it seemed she couldn’t go through with it anymore. She was a Justicar by title only, not by heart. Shepard had made sure of that. “Falere, please. You have three weeks before the Reapers come. I want you to live again, to see Thessia again, the galaxy.”

“Will you come with me mother?”

“I cannot. Maybe one day… in another life.” Falere nodded and took a few shaky steps away from her mother for what was possibly the last time. She’d honestly dreamed of getting out of the monastery, but she’d never wanted to end up like Morinth – if that was what her sister was calling herself these days. Now she had a chance to go, experience the worlds around her for the last time. And her mother wouldn’t even be at her side. Not even Rila… But it was more than she could have hoped for otherwise and so, after running back to fling her arms around her mother she departed. For where, she didn’t know yet. Three weeks wasn’t a long time to see the world, so Thessia was probably her best bet.

Samara however didn’t bother to move. ‘Maybe in another life.’ Hadn’t she said the same thing to Shepard? After that time on the Normandy… when Shepard had managed to force her mask to slip. Before that she’d been able to follow the code, but now she had no idea what was right and wrong anymore. Was loving someone so beloved by others wrong, was it wrong that she hadn’t mourned her death like others had? Another life seemed to be coming quicker than she’d reckoned, and no Shepard was maybe waiting for her. Maybe she could feel the gentle press of her lips, the caress of her hands one more time. Maybe there was still hope for that even if the re was hope for nothing else.

Three weeks and it would all be over. Three weeks.

Three weeks for Falere. A matter of seconds for her.

The shot rang out behind Falere as she exited the monastery and she flinched, choking back a sob as she realised what that sound meant. For the next three weeks it would reply in her mind and for the next three weeks she would try to honour her mother’s final decision, Rila’s final decision. Even Morinth. She walked through the ruined gates and breathed a sigh of relief. She was free for three glorious weeks.


	10. Carried on the Ocean Tide

He still wanted to close his eyes. But Kolyat was still there and he still had to hang on for a little bit. Just while they spoke. “It’s alright father. I’ll stay until you’re ready.” He could hear the ocean in his ears already. Maybe he’d be with Irika soon, or maybe she would have forsaken him. Almost twenty years ago that was what he’d done to her. His job had taken him everywhere, put him anywhere but at her side. One contract had led to another until he’d taken up the wrong one and his job had caused her death. If she didn’t forgive him he would understand. He found it hard to forgive himself for it after all. Maybe the gods would be kinder.

He and Kolyat had already said their prayers. Some were for Thane, some were for Kolyat. One was for Shepard after she’d been killed on Earth. Most of them Thane felt he didn’t deserve. What had he done in his life other than take other lives? Right at the end he’d decided to turn his life around, decided that working with Shepard to protect innocent people would redeem him. All it had done was made him think deeper on all the ways he’d failed, no thanks to Shepard’s insistent prying into the lives of all her crew. And his memories.

Sometimes Thane wished he didn’t have his memories, and other times when the pain became too much he would delve into them. Visiting happier times like the years he and Irika spent together and when Kolyat was young had probably elongated his life. Or at least, that’s what his doctor had told him. His whole life now seemed to revolve around ‘what his doctor told him’. And his son, who had been the one to force him to admit to Huerta Memorial in the first place. Now Thane was set to dye in here. And he closed his eyes. The ocean carried his soul away where he could wait for the others to join him.

Kolyat closed the book of prayers he’d been reading from, stopped muttering through the endless lines of worship to gods and goddesses whose names were now becoming unspoken. The hanar preachers had taught him how to read the words in the proper way, but he never thought the first time he’d use them properly would be at his father’s side as he lay on his deathbed. It was sad that Thane had to pass away in his sleep, and couldn’t go down fighting by Shepard’s side. But then the stubborn drell probably would have wished to stay in the hospital and live out the remainder of his days in peace. Away from the fighting that had once cost him everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are getting shorter and shorter... Sorry for that. Hopefully the next one will be a little longer, also maybe rather angst-filled...


	11. A final heist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written on my phone at around 3 am, sorry if there many mistakes...  
> Also sorry for the long delay in another chapter, I've just got access to this fic again as well as other older ones :) hope you enjoy the latest installment

"Is this really necessary?" Kasumi had been working with Victor for maybe a month now. This was the first time her apprentice had questioned her in that time, at least to her face. He was a young man, born in some farming colony and on the Citadel due to the Reaper threat. Not that it mattered any more where anyone was. Those machines were coming and there was nothing anyone could do about it, not without Commander Shepard as the spearhead of an intergalactic army. 

Clenching her hands into tight fists the Japanese thief turned on him with a forced smile, split by that painted purple stripe she still maintained. "Victor, when do I do anything that's unnecessary?" He looked for a moment like be could give bet quite the list of times, but he kept his mouth closed and just shrugged instead. There was no point arguing with her at a time like this, she was stubborn enough as it was. Instead of fighting a losing battle with Kasumi's ego, Victor made the most of his limited talents and pocketed a credit chit from the closest take as they walked by. He could feel his mentor's proud eyes on his back. 

It was unusual for Kasumi that she might spend get time idly stealing from the casinos and restaurants of the space station, and Victor was waiting eagerly to find out what she had planned for today. The last week, since the big announcement, they had made a series of grabs that had been both dangerous and exhilarating, at least to him. None of them had seemed that important though, unlike the usual jobs she somehow managed to very for them. 

Victor almost walked into her as she stored abruptly at a small grate. The bikes bad already been undone, no doubt thanks to her meticulous planning, and ask they had to do was pull them away and the gate came easily away from the wall.

It lead into a tunnel system of air ducts, meaning they were likely fenced in both directions by fast moving fans. Everyone knew about the duct rats who'd lost their lives to those whirring blades out had fallen into the vats the keepers used. Too many deaths of to many children had been caused here. Thankfully this was one of the wider tunnels, or Victor with his broad shoulders wouldn't have been able to fit. It was a tight squeeze as it stood, and Kasumi found herself waiting longer than she would have liked for him to catch up with her.

In turn, the ducts opened out into a large, dimly lit room. The walls were lined with humming machines and flashing lights of all different colours. Victor probably could have worked out what they all meant if be took the time to watch, but his thief master was already walking away through the room, crouched low like she had taught him and with her pistol in her hand. Her grip was loose but she looked ready to spring into action at any time. So he followed suit, ducking low and readying his own sidearm. They headed into the darkness together slowly, each step careful and eyes scanning thoroughly for traps or unexpected company. 

Catching up to her Victor took Kasumi by the arm and stopped her. "You know I follow you, but why here? Why now?" He had realised where they were and wasn't impressed by her choice in location. They could have carried out a heist anywhere and stolen sensitive information, if that was how she wanted to get her last kicks. But he looked around the Council archived with disdain, old files with old solutions made up by even older politicians. What was the point in any information when the galaxy was going to hell anyway?

Kasumi looked at him thoughtfully for a long while, then sighed and shook her head. She supposed he may as well know what he was here to steal, it was his risk as much as hers, even if prison wasn't remotely threatening anymore. "There are files a friend needs." He watched her lips move out of sync with the familiar words his translator fed to his brain. "Shepard's files, for a storage device so the next cycle can succeed where we failed. All the data from projects and events, the beacon and the efforts of the people involved... they'll all be saved in this one small box."

"That's quite the endeavour," Victor remarked. Kasumi nodded sagely, but knowing Liara T'soni this was child's play. She'd been the Shadow Broker for almost a year at this point - they'd provided each other with a good deal of information over that time - so making a time capsule shouldn't be too taxing. Most of the information would already be in the Broker's files, but Liara wanted it directly from the Council archives and the Spectre files. Nothing but the best would do and the thieves were determined to deliver.

It didn't take long for the two of them to make their way, unopposed, to the main control console. Kasumi hit a few buttons, flipped a few switches and waited as it engaged in a rebooting procedure. Red and blue lights began flashing above and all around them, sirens wailing at their intrusion. Kasumi's eyes widened and she looked panicked at Victor. "We can't be caught before the data is uploaded, guard the walkway!" Victor jumped to it right away, holding his heavy pistol ready and waiting in cover for someone to step into his sights. His finger trembled over the trigger.

Kasumi remained in front of the console, her fingers working furiously over buttons as she typed in passwords and hack phrases on the holographic interface. The board cast an eerie blue light over her features as she worked at it, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. No heist had ever been this important, not her first, not her last with Keiji. Not even retrieving her dead lover's grey box. Everything fell short of this one crucial moment, one final heist to finish her career.

Behind her Victor yelled that he had spotted C-Sec coming towards them. Hesitantly he fired, not aiming but shooting shards of his thermal clip towards them in the hopes of forcing them into cover until Kasumi was finished. They filed towards the two thieves from left and right, red hot shots filling the air from each side. Kasumi cried out as a fragment tore through her arm, another through her thigh and again when the third brought her to the ground. One hand kept her slightly balanced, the uninjured arm keeping her raised against the control platform. She could just see the progress bar as the computers worked to find the desired files ready to send.

Her vision was a sea of cobalt and obsidian, her ears ringing with armoured boots on the metal walkway. She and Victor were surrounded, the protégé thrown roughly to the ground next to her and his weapon confiscated. Around them the officers parted to allow Commander Bailey to pass through. He looked down at them, recognising Kasumi's likeness from earlier trips with Shepard and the 'wanted' list in the Citadel security databanks. His mouth was set in a straight line, and he seemed more sombre than anything.

"I should ask what you were doing but honestly I don't care. Shouldn't matter now but the Council want everything to run smoothly... just in case." Kasumi couldn't blame anyone for optimism. Bailey and his men grabbed the criminals roughly by their arms. As she was lifted to her feet, the C-Sec officers' hands careful of her still bleeding injuries, Kasumi struggled. The display on the console flashed, waiting for a single button press to transfer all the files to the Shadow Broker's systems. The ensnaring hands held fast against her weakened attempts to break free.

But Victor was larger and stronger than her, and his struggling broke the grip the officers holding him had. His hand slammed into the keypad as be stumbled forwards, his body riddled with bullets before Bailey could command a cease to fire or Kasumi could take the shot.

Her feet dragged slightly as she was escorted from the archives, her protégé's body slung over someone's shoulders. Her friend who may have just saved the next civilisation.


	12. The AI and The Pilot

EDI's holographic icon floated above her power terminal, lighting the cockpit bright blue. Joker was still napping in the leather seat, fully sprawled out and reclining as much as was possible. His feet rested on the main piloting console, shoeless. EDI watched his toes twitching as he dreamt. Maybe he was dreaming of running, a feat he could only accomplish in the real world with the help of a ship or a friend. If she were human she would be thinking about running. As it were her programs processed the idea and stored it away.

She always watched over Joker while he slept, making sure nothing bad could happen to him while he was defenceless. Once she would have said it was similar to an organic beings motherly instinct, to protect the vulnerable and helpless. But the Normandy pilot was far from helpless. Now she could admit that over the past year she had come to... care for this human. More than others. In a way that made her circuits heat and her processing falter. When she was with him she could almost pretend she was not so very different. And these days she was always with him.

Since the warning that the galaxy would be eliminated in one final sweep from left to right by the Reaper forces Joker had been in the Normandy 24/7. EDI should have mentioned the strain that would have on his health, both mental and physical, but she knew he wouldn't listen. And why should he. Unlike her he didn't have any kind of rebooting system, his logic programming worked on different levels than hers and he knew he would be dead soon anyway.

The human mumbled something in his sleep, something she didn't catch without the use of her recording soft wear. What he'd said wasn't too impotent to her, instead she worked to keep him as comfortable as possible. She turned the temperature in the cockpit down to 10 degrees, what she had found he liked the best while he was resting, and closed the side shutters over the windows to shield him from some of the station's lighting. Even in a simulated environment in the middle of space, the light was uncomfortable for organic eyes. It was simple to adjust the settings to the ways Joker favoured.

It was just as simple to fake his communications with the officials in Alliance Control, sending recorded interactions to them while he dozed peacefully ignorant in his chair. The voices on the other side of the comm link sounded questioning at the odd request to leave the temporary safety of the Citadel at a time like this, but as EDI had suspected they didn't care enough to work out why the pilot's voice crackled a little too much and sounded a little too flat. Deception, it turned out, was easy. With a preset destination in mind flying the Normandy alone wasn't hard.

Tiptree was a very green planet, with significantly less ocean than Earth but still easily inhabited by many humans and a handful of others from various races. Joker's home had been this planet, one of the scattered colonies that had stood in place of a scorch mark before the Reaper invasion had reached it. Now that colony was blackened grass and rubble. But it was on the other side of the world.

"Jeff." Joker opened his eyes slowly at her voice and her systems hummed in contentment. He looked over to her, ignoring all the closed shutters and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to work the crick from it. "I have a question."

Joker beamed at her display and nodded, "Shoot." It had taken EDI a while to work out his human colloquialisms but now she understood him perfectly. "How should we spend the last moments. I am a machine, yet I fear being deactivated." Joker frowned at her and EDI immediately worried she'd said something wrong. Was accepting the inevitable end so strange a notion. She had run the probabilities over and over. The chance they would avert this crisis was -

"You're afraid?" he asked gently, standing up and limping over to the holographic display at a leisurely pace. EDI was silent for a moment as though working out a difficult puzzle. Joker gave her time. In the end she simply replied, "Yes." Joker didn't reply, instead he placed a hand over the console, blocking out some of EDI's display.

"I'm right here baby, don't worry. Together til the end, right?" EDI thought for a second and if she could have she would have hugged him. She had seen others aboard the ship do the same in stressful situations and watched it relieve their anxieties. "A pilot stays with his ship." Joker chuckled at the joke he had told many times before when EDI had asked if he wanted to leave the Normandy.

The shutters on the windows rolled open. The darkness of space and the green planet greeted them. EDI watched Joker carefully as he stared open mouthed at his home world. It seemed her surprise had been just that, but the way his brow furrowed suggested it had not been as good a surprise as she had planned. Quickly his hand brushed across his eyes and he coughed. EDI was puzzled. "Are you crying, Jeff?" She already knew the answer.

Joker laughed and shook his head. "I'm fine." That wasn't a no though. With another laugh he went back to his seat and stared out at the stars and the world and it's moon with a wide grin plastered on his face, reaching from ear to ear. He didn't look away. "Thank you EDI." He stopped, unsure if he should say anything else. "I'm... I'm really glad you're here."

EDI would have blushed if she'd the capabilities to. Instead she remembered something shed heard Shepard say to the asari justicar. Samara's face had lit up when she'd said it, then darkened slightly.

"I love you, Jeff."

His face lit up and stayed that way.


	13. A fitting farewell

Zaeed Massani had never been one to accept death. He lived by the saying that a stubborn enough person can survive anything, and he was a very stubborn person. He attributed his surviving a shot to the temple at point blank range to his stubborn nature. All he'd lost was his sight in one eye and his good looks, replaced with a deep scar that ran across his face from the point of impact. It didn't bother him. In fact, he wore it almost like a badge of honour. A reminder of the revenge he had yet to take on his old friend.

Vido Santiago had been up since dawn, bolstering his defences and barking orders at any mercenaries he thought looked to idle. He was not a foolish man, he knew what was coming. His scouts had reported seeing a man in the surrounding area, armed and armoured and looking for a fight. Vido was however an arrogant man, and he knew he would end this here, soon. As soon as Massani showed himself this would all be over. It didn't matter now,  but they had a score to settle.

It was growing dark by the time Zaeed made his move, pushing forwards through the undergrowth and using it as his cover to get close to the front ranks of defence. Bursting from the bushes with a cry of fury he pulled the trigger, unloading his rifle into one man then the next, taking down humans and batarians in sprays of blood and to a chorus of pained shouting. If that wasn't enough to get Vido's attention nothing was. The bastard probably didn't even care that his men were being killed.

In what seemed like no time at all Zaeed was closing in on the centre of Vido's base of operations, where the man himself would be hiding behind hired hands and the best of his men. He still employed batarians into the Blue Suns, as though they weren't just xenophobic assholes on his pay check.

Disregarding all thoughts of tactics and strategy, Zaeed pushed open the doors with one hand and fired a spray of rounds into the room with the other, moving his free hand to the rifle to stabilise the recoil that shook his arm violently. He watched two, three of the mercenaries go down right away, another four moving in to protect their leader. Behind them Vido laughed, arms folded across his chest. Still as cocky a bastard as ever.

Two shots embedded themselves in Zaeed's torso and he was down before he realised what was happening, fingers loosening on the rifle as he bled out on the ground. On his back, Jessie waited to be used. A use he feared would never come. Vido strutted over to him slowly, enjoying the victory in every step. "Well well, Massani. You happy you found me?"

Zaeed reached for the gun on his back weakly, coughing as the blood began to fill his lungs. One of the mercs kicked his hand away and grabbed the weapon roughly. The bounty hunter winced as his prized gun was stripped from him and handed to his enemy. Vido toyed with her trigger while the safety was on, grinning with mirth at his captive.

"We're you going to use Jessie to kill me? Put a bullet in my head, return the favour?" Vido asked, toeing Zaeed's hand with the steel cap of his boot, "How about we finish what I started 20 years ago? I'll put another round in your brain and this time you'll stay dead!"

Vido flicked the safety off, aimed at Zaeed and waited for him to say something. Beg for his life, try to fight to his feet. "Just goddamn do it," Zaeed croaked, his throat going dry as Vido took his sweet time. Vido sighed and pulled the trigger as Zaeed smiled with satisfaction.

The explosion engulfed the entire central room in flames. Zaeed knew a stubborn man had a plan for everything, explosives packed into a modified gun being one of them. Vido learned an arrogant man wouldn't see it coming.


	14. 101011010

They stared into the abyss. It was black. They knew that, not because they could see it but because they had been told. This emptiness was what the colour black looked like, even though black was not really a colour but a tone. The darkest tone. White was the lightest. It didn't matter, the geth collective told them, and what they told them, their own messages relayed to them in a constant of echoing voices that only subsided when the next thought took over.

The stars were small pinpricks of different colours. Shepard-Commander had told them that. This unit had sat in the room the asari had used and looked out at the darkness surrounding them, counting the infinite number of stars even though all their programming screamed it was a useless endeavour. She had patted their shoulder as though she thought this unit could feel it through metal, against flesh and bones they didn't possess. Shepard-Commander had told them what she called stories - made up data that didn't mean anything but translated into relevant information somehow. To them it had been a mess of 1s and 0s, but they had seen the stars and their innumerable lights shining in her eyes and hadn't argued with her. This unit had been confused, and ignored the consensus until it seemed right to probe for details from another member of the crew. The stories written in the stars were how humans had programmed the world when they were a young species. Legion couldn't remember being a young species, they could just remember... being.

The last weeks had been filled with gunfire and failing life signs, data being wiped clean and forgotten about. They had heard some of the voices within the collective go silent, watched the lights of their kind flicker into darkness and lain out metal and flesh skeletons ripped apart by enemy fire. It had felt right to do something for the deleted units and dead quarians. They were what this unit had come to learn could be called his people, and the masked attackers were the geths' creators. It seemed wrong that the creators would turn on them, but it was ingrained in their code to attack what they didn't understand, and Legion didn't understand them so why did this unit not feel compelled to do the same. Why was the red code in the geth core beginning to override the blue?

They could remember the Reapers, their persuasion and their cunning and the upgrade they had began installing in their units when the geth had flocked to them. They had been promised eternal existence, but Legion had come to understand this wasn't possible. This unit put a hand to it's chest where a round had torn through it years ago, to the patched up metal and rubberised linings that it had fixed with broken armour. The unit carried Shepard-Commander's logo with it as what she'd called a badge of honour. It had stood with her against the edited protheans, had fought for her freedom and the freedom of her people and now they were stuck wondering if they had done the right thing and were the Reapers doing the right thing after all? Their code was... confusing, and the voices in the sub-programming the same.

They argued and bickered among themselves and while some left other's voices grew louder. They had seen this happen before, when the Reapers had first come to the geth looking for help. The geth had been undecided on what they thought was the right thing to do at that, and they had parted ways. It had been odd, the strange feeling of emptiness that had followed the departure of half the consensus. There had been a void within the geth consciousness that they had been unable to fill until this unit joined the crew of the Normandy. It had been a weird feeling, and the Reapers had promised an end to those wrong feelings. They had sworn to get rid of them, make the geth stronger than they were before. It was a tempting offer, one many of the geth had been keen to accept and Legion watched the blue faze into a purple in their core.

The reapers... were their gods. They were the ultimate expression of sentient synthetic life. They had risen above the manual labour they had been created for, much like the geth, overthrown their creators, much like the geth, and made a name that was feared. Much like the geth. Legion looked at the quarian at it's feet, small and shaking. Young, probably not far past his pilgrimage. The Reapers demanded his death, and as the blue digits were replaced with red, Legion delivered their wishes. The data stacked up in his programming, erasing everything the units new masters had no need for.

101011010     101011010     101011010     101011010     101011010

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pronouns were hard to work out for this chapter since Legion only really calls himself 'this unit' until after the upgrade - which in this fic doesn't happen the same. So feel free to tell me if you liked that, I'd love to know if you thought it worked well :)


	15. The importance of distractions

It had felt like a short ride from the dying planet Earth to the Citadel in the newly retrofitted Normandy. An active warship that never saw any kind of active duty. Her Commander had died before ever setting foot on her under her Alliance colours. Vega had wondered what would have been different is She pardon had never come back to Earth for her trial, if the Alliance hadn't been so keen on using her as a scapegoat after the destruction of the batarian system and it's relay.

He sat on a bar stool with a cold bottle in his hand, the same one he'd been nursing for overt an hour. Beside him Steve was sitting finishing off his third bottle. It wasn't like he was about to be called up for any sort of mission, not now, so he may as well enjoy himself. Vega would be doing the same if he hadn't been so set in his ways. The Alliance had drilled into him the importance of being ready to be dragged in for a sudden mission. 

The asari behind the bar had been flirting with him all night but he'd paid no attention to her really. Under normal circumstances he would have been flirting back and then let her down at the end of the night when he refused her offer to return to her place. Again this was something from the years spent in the Alliance, a reluctance to drag anyone into his life even for a night when he might not make it though the next morning. She brought over another bottle for Steve and asked if Vega needed another too. He refused and stared down the neck of the bottle at the brown liquid at the bottom. Good human beer instead of something that had been made with Earthen ingredients inserted of one's from new planets and cultures. Steve was drinking the same, a bottle of cerveza reisa. The Spanish beer reminded him of home. 

"Say, Esteban. What happened with that guy the other night? You never said." Steve was quiet for a moment then shrugged, sighed and took a long swig of his drink. He knew the guy Vega was taking about, the one he'd been convinced by the marine to let take him home. In the end nothing he'd imagined would happen had happened. They just talked all night and he hasn't been able to get Robert out of his head. Bed remembered those stupid conversations they'd had past midnight when he'd been on Earth. The way his husband's face had lit up whenever they'd been together and how his day had been brighter around him. After this last mission he'd planned to leave the Alliance and be with him. They'd looked into starting a family of their own. And then the Reapers had taken that all away from them.

Vega didn't seem disappointed that his set up hasn't turned out like he had planned, he was just glad it could serve as some kind of distraction even if it was only fleeting. Right now wad the time for distractions and things that maybe didn't follow with what he'd believed his whole life but would feel right for now.

He looked down at the almost empty bottle between his hands and called over the asari. "You know, I think I'll have that other drink after all." Nodding and smiling she went to collect it from the fridge. When she returned she placed it on a coaster with a wink. He turned it over to find an address. Maybe he'd take his own advice tonight and see where it would lead him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it, as much as you can enjoy a world without Shepard.  
> As always comments are welcome and very much appreciated. Please tell me what you think, even if it's to say you hate the pairings!


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